By Debahuti Borah
Don't hurt me.
I have cried tears of asphalt
With myself
That somehow never blinded me
To the dissolving truths,
Under the mercy of a monopoly
So giant that even the moon shuddered -
Cold to the core - on a cloudless summer night.
Don't hurt me.
I am a wounded Flesh,
Dizzy among my peers
Who have hobbies to go home to.
And I -- have scars to count.
Don't hurt me.
I am just crawling out of a place
That stinks of rotten dreams.
I have myself to erase,
For the fatigue is crippling
From the redundant battles
That I never asked for
To prove my strength
(Or the lack of it, as they say).
Don't hurt me.
I am relearning the difference
Between good touch and bad touch -
Something I have known (sadly)
From the time I recognised
Touch for touch,
As a toddler learning
How steps take you closer
To a space that feels like safety -
Back to my mother's womb.
Talking about steps -
My mind howled at the necessity
To pause - breathe - live
Now
That I knew not of.
Don't hurt me.
I have been split open,
Limbs failing to catch up,
Heart weary of trusting a sweet fruit
For they always
Turned sour in the hungry mouth.
And today -
You make me feel seen.
Don't hurt me.
My sacred wounds
Deserve the voice
That carry the echoes
Of a childhood not lived.
And today -
You show me the way
To vocalise the pain
That carries the weight
Of my own heart, full of rust.
Today -
You show me the way
To gently rub the rust off
With my fingertips
To hold the mirror
To the meaning it beats everytime.
Don't rush me.
My mind is in a frenzy -
Torn with hypervigilance -
Observing. Scrutinizing.
Trying to make sense.
And today -
You provide a safe space
Again
Apart from my mother's womb
Where I am not actively seeking
To battle leacherous sins.
You don't hurt me.
You hold a mirror to my actions
That speaks beautifully
To the kindness I live to spread.
To the love I seek to reflect.
You don't hurt me.
You're the light
That doesn't startled and shock.
It brings warmth
To my subconscious
Where monsters from under the bed
Once roamed freely.
You don't hurt me.
You remind me
I am not a burden -
But in my intensity lies my gift
To build anchors and a safety net
For the ones I love
And (not to forget) myself.
You are the cry
Of faith and happiness
That makes me wonder,
"Maybe I am not all alone
In my mind"
While you hold out the tissue
To wipe off some tears
That skid down to prove
I am still alive - and how!